


One Day

by gluupor



Series: AFTG Bingo 2020 [1]
Category: All For The Game - Nora Sakavic
Genre: AFTG Bingo 2020, Alternate Universe - Noir, Ambiguous/Open Ending, Implied Sexual Content, M/M, POV First Person, Prompt: Noir AU, ambiguous time period
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-03
Updated: 2020-07-03
Packaged: 2021-03-04 18:42:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,532
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25051105
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gluupor/pseuds/gluupor
Summary: Andrew is a private dick. Neil is a femme fatale.Or, my attempt at writing a noir AU for the 2020 AFTG Bingo
Relationships: Neil Josten/Andrew Minyard
Series: AFTG Bingo 2020 [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1814353
Comments: 20
Kudos: 280
Collections: AFTG Bingo Blackout 2020 - Cupcakes, All For The Game Bingo 2020





	One Day

**Author's Note:**

> This was written for the AFTG 2020 Bingo card, in collaboration with fornavn's [amazing artwork](https://fornavn.tumblr.com/post/622632400142401536/one-day-gluupor-all-for-the-game-nora). Go check it out!

It was a dark and stormy night, rain pelting against the windows and lightning splitting the sky like I was in one of those horror dime paperbacks that sold in every corner store—cheap thrills to distract the masses from their mundane lives, to let them exercise their wish for adventure from the safety of their own living rooms. I should have been in my own living room, but an argument earlier in the day with my cousin led to my stubborn refusal to leave my office until I got a new client. The weather was wrecking my chances; this wasn’t the type of night anyone respectable would be out, only dope fiends or stockingless working dames with rouged knees.

I reached for my bottle of booze, remembering my earlier argument. My cousin, whose husband’s money was bankrolling my business, was considering pulling the plug. He wasn’t happy about my inability to be either sober or friendly, although I wasn’t sure which bothered him more. He kept sending clients my way but I refused to meet with them. None of them caught my interest with their petty problems: escaped pets and misplaced jewelry. No, the fish I was after was bigger than that.

I took a swig of whisky, only my fourth of the evening in a futile attempt to prove to my cousin that I could moderate. Instead I’d eaten an entire pint of ice cream, which sat heavy in my stomach like a stone at the bottom of a well. I lit up a cigarette to stop from drinking any more; abstaining from one of my vices gave me full leave to indulge in another.

The door to my office swung open to coincide with another crash of thunder. The lights in the hallway dimmed for a moment before sparking back to life to illuminate my third—and most dangerous—vice, the one most likely to bring about my end. I had been right about only disreputable people being out in the storm.

He was hatless and his overcoat was spattered with rain, sluicing off onto the floor. I followed the path of a droplet over his collarbone, wanting to lick it off. His hair was plastered to his head and looked almost black in the dimness, although I knew it to be reddish-brown. Raindrops clustered in his eyelashes, like pearls on a string, clumping them together and emphasizing his ice blue eyes. I looked away; those eyes had gotten me in trouble more times than I cared to admit.

It had been months since I’d last seen those eyes, dilated and hooded with desire as I thrust inside him. I’d woken alone and naked, twisted in the sweaty sheets, and he’d been nowhere to be found. I shouldn’t have been surprised; he was a runner, a rabbit, and he’d left no trace. I’d looked anyway, of course I had. He’d seeped his way into my body like blood poisoning and the only way to get rid of him was to get so drunk I forgot he existed.

“Andrew,” he said, his face splitting into a smile with the capability to chase away the storm clouds outside. I kept my eyes averted.

“Alex,” I replied levelly. “Or is it Stefan? Chris?”

“You looked for me.” He sounded pleased at the prospect.

I took a drag of my cigarette and didn’t offer a response.

“It’s Neil now,” he offered. “I need your help.”

“I’ve heard that refrain before.”

“It’s different this time.”

“Different how?”

“There’s money in it.”

“For me or for you?”

“You know me too well.” Again, he smiled. Again, I looked away.

“I don’t even know your name,” I said, as I ground out my cigarette.

“I told you; it’s Neil.”

“Not that one.” I rose from behind my desk and stalked towards him. I knew I should stay away, but everything about him was a siren’s song, pulling me in. I was already drowning and I knew it. I never claimed I wasn’t self-destructive.

He let me crowd him against the wall, eyelids fluttering closed as I nosed along his neck, taking in his ash and rainwater scent.

“Does it really matter?” he asked.

It took me several heartbeats to remember what we were talking about. “It does to me.”

“Then I’ll tell you.” He wound his scarred hands through my hair and pulled just the way I liked. “One day.”

I could shove him out the door, slam it behind him and tell him not to come back. He would listen, if I meant it. He’d always respected the boundaries I set. But what then? More lonely nights, by myself with a bottle, with no hope of seeing him again. I’d thought I wasn’t stupid enough to fall for him, for the lies that passed through his lips as easy as breath, but I may have underestimated my intelligence.

“One day,” I agreed before pressing a bruising kiss against his lips, wanting to leave a mark, a brand.

“I’ve got a place,” he gasped. “A couple blocks from here.”

“Take me there.” A single kiss and my intentions of never again falling under his spell were already out the window. He was like a drug coursing through my veins; I couldn’t get enough of him.

I pushed away from him to get my own hat and coat, and then ushered him out of my office, locking the door behind me.

I kept a grip on his wrist as we went out into the deluge of rain, not willing to let go of him now that I had my hands on him again. I knew I couldn’t keep him, but tonight I would keep both eyes on him. I wouldn’t get any sleep, but that was fine. If I got my way, neither would he.

* * *

The dawn light was pale and washed out as it peeked through the streaky, soot-stained windows of his third-story walk up. I was barely awake, blinking sleepily into my coffee that he’d liberally doctored with whisky in order to make it palatable. I lit up a cigarette and across the cheap card table so did he, although he didn’t smoke it. He simply used it as a prop, waving it around as he detailed the job he had for me.

The domesticity of it tugged at my breast bone in a way I wasn’t expecting. It wasn’t something I would ever get from life, my past experiences made sure of that. People with cracks down to their very souls didn’t get happy endings. But it was strangely comforting, like a stretched-out old sweater, to not be alone, to share breakfast with another person.

He didn’t pause in his recitation, even when a small, black cat jumped up on the table. Instead, he crumbled up a small piece of bacon from his own breakfast and fed it to the beast.

“What’s that?” I asked.

He looked over to the cat as if noticing it for the first time. “She’s good company,” he said, and then continued his planning, promising me that it was easy and nothing could go wrong.

I wasn’t so far gone that I believed him, but I agreed to help him anyway. What the worst that could happen?

Surprise of all surprises, it actually went the way he said it would. The duffel bag he was searching for was in the warehouse he said it was, guarded by three easily-dispatched guards. I was still waiting for the other shoe to drop when I heard the revolver being cocked. I turned towards the noise and found his gun trained on me, his expression set.

“I’m sorry,” he said, a genuine look of remorse colouring his face. He adjusted the strap of the duffel bag on his shoulder.

“I was expecting it,” I admitted. “You’re as real as a three dollar coin.”

His smile was wry as he tossed me a set of handcuffs. “Lock yourself to that grate,” he said, gesturing with his chin. “I really am sorry, but I have to go.”

I complied with his directions, speaking up as I snapped the cuffs into place. “Of course you do; you’re a runner.”

He walked over to me, taking two stacks of cash out of his duffel and placing them into my inner breast pocket. “With what’s in this bag, I may not always have to be,” he said, smoothing his hands along the outside of my coat. “One day.” He leaned in to plant a kiss on the corner of my mouth.

I closed my eyes against the incongruous sweetness; when I opened them, he was gone, leaving me alone once again. The key to the cuffs sparkled up at me from the dirt on the ground, just out of reach.

I went back to his apartment as soon as I freed myself. Unsurprisingly it was abandoned, the few personal items having vanished along with him. A small noise caught my attention as I examined the empty space. Kneeling, I found the black cat under the couch, left behind as I had been. Good company, indeed.

I took her with me when I left. Someone had to feed her.

**Author's Note:**

> I can be found on tumblr [@gluupor](http://gluupor.tumblr.com).


End file.
